This morning, just after we packed up and pointed the van toward our next adventure, I took a poll of everyone’s favorite memories from our time in Spain.

España 🇪🇸 Favorites

Amir: Eating together with family, Lidia’s parents’ 25th anniversary celebration, and the Autol Orchestra concert (will have to add a post on this one).

#1BigBrother: Playing soccer with Daddy and Marta, and the carnival games in Autol.

#1BigSister: Running around the bull ring (without any bulls, thankfully!) and the fireworks on the beach in Peñíscola.

#1LittleSister: Jumping on the trampolines at the Autol funfair and eating what seemed like an unlimited supply of Lacasitos.

Lidia: Riding jet skis, celebrating her parents’ 25th anniversary, and visiting the SuperTRES museum in Barcelona.

Me: Spain’s World Cup victory, wandering through Park Güell, and the long, leisurely lunches on the patio at the Peñautol casa.

It’s funny how a trip becomes more than the places you visit. Looking at everyone’s answers, almost none of them were monuments or museums. They were moments. Family gathered around a table. A soccer game. Fireworks. Candy. A party. Time together.

Every trip also seems to have a soundtrack, and this one belongs to Superestrella. It was everywhere. We heard it echoing through the streets of Barcelona, spilling out of bars and shops, playing from passing cars, and blasting through the speakers in Autol after Spain’s thrilling World Cup victory. It became the background music to winding mountain roads, afternoons by the pool, and celebrations that seemed to spring up wherever we happened to be.

I’m certain that ten years from now, I’ll hear Superestrella somewhere unexpectedly, and in an instant I’ll be transported back here—to the summer heat, the stone streets, the castle overlooking the Mediterranean, the laughter of our kids, and the feeling that, for just a little while, we got to experience Spain not just as tourists, but as honorary members of Lidia’s family.

Adiós, España. Thank you for the memories.

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Our flight from Barcelona to Geneva was a quick 90 minutes. For such a short flight, there was a surprising amount of anxiety onboard. The Spanish woman sitting next to me quietly crossed herself at takeoff—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—while another passenger a few rows back experienced a full-blown panic attack, sobbing until we were safely in the air. Amir, a bit closer to her, thought maybe it was less-so fear, and sadness at leaving someone important behind. It was a reminder that something as routine as flying can feel very different depending on who’s in the seat.

Our rental car adventure got off to a rocky start. The Renault Espace Alpine we’d reserved online was advertised as a seven-seater, but when we arrived, it only had five actual seats. Amir headed back to the rental desk while the rest of us waited. In the end, the inconvenience worked out in our favor—we were upgraded to a Hyundai Santa Fe that was roomier and far more comfortable for our group and mountain luggage.

Travel tip: if you only need booster seats, don’t automatically rent them from the car company. We paid a painful 300€ for two boosters in Barcelona, only to discover that after landing in Geneva we could buy two brand-new boosters at a nearby baby store for just 30 CHF total (30€). Lesson learned.

That stop also introduced us to one of the smartest parking garage ideas I’ve ever seen. Above every parking space hung a tiny light: green if the space was available, red if it was occupied. No creeping through endless rows hoping someone was about to leave. Such a simple idea, but it made navigating a huge garage—especially in our oversized vehicle—so much easier.

Of course, our smooth parking experience ended with a rookie mistake. We drove to the exit gate only to realize we’d completely missed the payment kiosk back inside the mall. With a line of cars already stacked up behind us, backing out wasn’t an option. Without hesitation, Lidia jumped out of the car and sprinted back into the mall like she was running the anchor leg of a relay race. About 90 seconds later she came flying back with the paid ticket in hand, and we were on our way.

What amazed me most wasn’t Lidia’s speed—it was everyone else’s patience. Not a single horn. No angry gestures. Instead, the drivers behind us got out of their cars to see if they could help. Apparently we’re not the first tourists to miss the payment kiosk; while we were waiting, we watched three other cars make the exact same mistake. Somehow that made our beginner’s blunder a little less embarrassing.

The drive to Les Collons was exquisite. We embraced the journey Griswold-style, stopping at a roadside rest area to stock up on Swiss cheese and chocolate before cueing up The Sound of Music as our soundtrack. It felt perfectly fitting as we wound through lush green valleys with the Alps towering above us.

As we drove, the valley was a patchwork of summer color and agriculture. Fields of bright yellow sunflowers stretched toward the mountains, while orchards laden with apples and apricots dotted the landscape. Lavender added ribbons of purple to the hillsides, making the scenery look almost too perfect to be real.

About 45 minutes from our destination, the drive took a dramatic turn—literally. We began the steep ascent up the mountain, and “treacherous” is the only word that comes to mind. It reminded me so much of our drive in Crete. Apparently guardrails are optional here. Motorcycles came flying downhill at what felt like top speed, horses wandered into the roadway, and the roads themselves were somehow both two-way and barely wide enough for a single vehicle. Every blind curve felt like a leap of faith.

Thankfully, with Amir behind the wheel, we made it to the top without incident.

After a quick stop to check out our beautiful chalet for the week, we headed to La Luge, a cozy Italian restaurant perched near the top of the mountain, for dinner. It was the perfect way to end our first day in the Swiss Alps.

We still haven’t settled on tomorrow’s adventure, but it will likely involve some combination of gondolas, castles, hiking, and packing an extra layer or two. After nearly two weeks of Spanish summer heat, the crisp mountain air is a welcome change. The days are pleasantly cool, hovering around 70°F, while the evenings dip into the low 50s. I have a feeling this little corner of Switzerland is going to be hard to leave.

~Steph